San Diego (CNN) – At a 1950s-style house nestled in a peaceful neighborhood nicknamed “Hanukkah Hill,” a smiling Buddha on the porch greets visitors – his arms raised as if to say all are welcome.

Affixed to the doorpost is a mezuzah, a decorative case holding blessings for a Jewish home. Inside, on the family’s refrigerator, hangs a magnet from the Feminist Mormon Housewives blog that says, “Jesus loves us. Who cares what you think?”

In the kitchen stands Joanna Brooks, an accidental, unofficial and admittedly unauthorized source for all things Mormon. She’s making “funeral potatoes,” a classic Mormon casserole, and heaped on the counter are the ingredients: a not-so-healthy dose of cheese, butter, sour cream, hash browns and chicken soup. Her Jewish husband strolls by, takes a look at what’s cooking, and grimaces. Bespectacled and freckled 6-year-old Rosa, standing atop a chair, proudly announces, “I’m Jewish and Mormon!”

The home and life Brooks has created is the product of a complicated journey.

She cannot separate The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from her identity any more than she can leave cheese out of funeral potatoes. But like her persecuted ancestors who braved the unforgiving plains to reach the promised land of what is now Utah, Brooks, 40, fights for her faith.

As a young feminist activist, she saw her beloved church excommunicate her intellectual heroes. She’s felt outrage and soul-crushing grief while watching her church mobilize against same-sex marriages. For about 10 years, she walked away.

But today a vintage postcard of a Mormon missionary boarding a plane sits on her desk to inspire. It reads, in part, “Dare to be different.”

She believes there’s room in the LDS Church for loving criticism and candid talk, that Latter-day Saints like her can not just belong but also serve – without fear of being cast out into the wilderness.

Her goal? To be her authentic self and humanize a tradition and people she couldn't love more.

“I just refuse to be ashamed of being Mormon,” she says. “Don’t talk about us like we’re not in the room.”

Embracing her difference

Growing up in California's Orange County, she often was the only Mormon in a room. She was, she likes to say, “a root beer among the Cokes,” a reference to the caffeine-free drink that her faith permits.

She fantasized about her ancestors on the other side of the veil. Her father, a longtime LDS Church bishop – a volunteer pastor – said they knew her name and that her spirit would join them when she died.

She sang pioneer hymns in church on Sundays with other root beers. She kneeled and prayed to God each night before bed. By the time she was baptized at 8, she’d read cover-to-cover the Book of Mormon, the sacred text Latter-day Saints view as “another testament of Jesus Christ” and study in addition to the Bible.

Brooks, center, and her sisters learned early to be proud of and show off their Mormon pioneer heritage.

She learned to relish being different, even when born-again classmates, taught by their pastors to believe she was in a cult, scrawled warnings in her yearbook. When Marie Osmond, a visible Mormon to the non-Mormon world, winked into the TV camera on Friday nights, Brooks was sure the gesture was meant for her.

Along the way, there were glimpses of the woman she would become. Asked one year in grade school to write two term papers, she chose as her subjects the Equal Rights Amendment and Joseph Smith, the founder of the LDS Church.

“I’m not making this up,” she says, laughing at what some may see as irony. “This is who I am.”

But in her traditional - what she calls “orthodox” - Mormon home, she was only exposed to pamphlets on women’s rights penned by Phyllis Schlafly, a conservative stalwart who railed against the ERA push.

At LDS Church-owned Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah, the only college she ever considered attending, Brooks imagined the warm embrace of being among her people. Looking at those around her, at first she worried she was too different. But during orientation, an English professor quoted a verse from the Book of Mormon that she'd carry with her.

He denieth none that come unto him, black and white, bond and free, male and female; and he remembereth the heathen; and all are alike unto God, both Jew and Gentile.

“I felt the knot of panic in my belly loosen and disappear,” she writes in her memoir. “Deep inside my chest, a door opened. Light and oxygen flooded the room.”

She gravitated to professors who shined the light on possibilities, devouring the words of Mormon poets and feminist historians.

All are alike unto God.

In the Student Review, an alternative and unofficial school paper, Brooks poked fun at university policies, interviewed polygamists, wrote about gay issues and simply didn’t shy away from matters most people were afraid to talk about.

While getting ready for church on Sundays, she blared Public Enemy.

Outside her circle of like-minded friends were people like John Dehlin, a staunchly conservative Mormon student who watched her from afar. Whether it was hot-button issues in the paper, pro-choice demonstrations at the state Capitol or night vigils and marches for rape victims, he says, Brooks was always involved.

“She didn't know me, but I knew her. I was torn between being uncomfortable and seeing her as dangerous, and respecting her for her courage and convictions.”

Brooks was riding an optimistic wave of change at BYU, when the tide suddenly shifted.

The early 1990s brought a LDS Church crackdown on intellectuals, feminists and activists who were perceived as being threats.

Professors at BYU lost their jobs. Others walked away in solidarity. In September 1993, six prominent Mormon scholars were excommunicated or disfellowshipped – stripped of certain religious rights, including access to LDS Church temples.

The day Brooks received her diploma, she handed it back in protest.

Wrestling with God

The still-warm funeral potatoes take their place on a picnic table crowded with treats in a La Jolla park. Milling about are those who've gathered for a monthly meeting, a support group of sorts, under the auspices of an organization called Mormon Stories.

Some, like Brooks, are faithful churchgoing members. Others no longer attend services but long for cultural connections. For at least two of these Californians (one says she is a distant relative of Mitt Romney's), the day church leaders called on Mormons to support Proposition 8 – a 2008 ballot measure to prevent same-sex marriages – was the last time they sat in the pews. One first-time visitor shows up, her crisis of faith new and raw.

“I believed everything until two weeks ago,” she says, her expression one-part grief, the other anger.

After graduating from BYU, Brooks headed to Los Angeles to get her doctorate in English at UCLA. For about five years, she says she regularly went to church but was still reeling from “the purge” of so many mentors.

She wrestled internally. Each time the LDS Church galvanized its members behind the Defense of Marriage Act or supported initiatives that predated Prop 8, she felt like a cinderblock had been dropped on her heart. If her bishop asked how she was doing, she burst into tears.

“Whenever I went to church, I'd just cry,” she says. “So I just stopped. It was my way of saying 'uncle.' It was too much. I clearly needed time.”

Brooks retreated not just from church, but also from her liberal Mormon peers. She guarded her tongue and emotions around family.

Meantime, her life moved forward in other beautiful ways. She'd fallen hard for David Kamper, then a doctoral student in anthropology, “a sweet and soulful Jewish man from my California hometown: a man who saw no enmity in me, a man who would never put me on trial, a man who would never audit my heart for heresy,” she says in her memoir.

They met at a union party for teaching assistants. About two months into their relationship, she turned to him and said, “You know we're going to get married.”

When they did, some years later, she couldn't have a temple marriage, which allows two Mormons to be sealed for eternity in a sacred ceremony – a rite considered necessary to reach the highest level in heaven. Instead, their unconventional wedding blended their religious backgrounds.

When Kamper stomped on a glass, which marks the end of a Jewish wedding ceremony, Brooks knew she was in some way breaking her parents' hearts.

The oldest of four siblings, all dedicated Mormons, she still attended family events in the LDS Church during those years in self-imposed exile. Each visit made her ache with longing. She tried other Christian denominations, but none felt like home.

It was the birth of her daughters Ella and Rosa, now 8 and 6, that would eventually help bring her back. When she rocked them to sleep, she mindlessly sang a Mormon pioneer hymn, a reminder of those who walked before her.

Her faith journey was shaped, in part, by the birth of daughters Ella -- walking ahead with the family dog -- and Rosa.

She realized she had to be true to her spiritual needs and her legacy, not just for herself, but for her little girls. She began writing the book that would become her memoir, to help her heal and so they would someday understand their mother.

“I am an unorthodox Mormon woman with a fierce and hungry faith,” she writes. “Sometimes even in my own tradition I feel a long way from home. But I will keep on crossing as many plains as this life puts in front of me. I drag along my Jewish husband, my two daughters, and a trunk of difficult questions.”

Finding her way home

Slowly, in 2008, she dipped her cold feet back in the LDS Church waters.

Three months later, like a tsunami, came the push for Proposition 8.

“So I took another few months off. To shake my fist at God,” she wrote in a recent Ask Mormon Girl column. “That's what I did until the vote was over. And then I went back. Again.”

That wasn’t all she did, though. Once, during this hiatus from church, she returned to her childhood congregation for a new nephew’s naming and blessing. She squirmed in her seat as each talk and prayer mentioned the need to protect marriage, she recalls in her memoir.

Using Rosa, then 2, as an excuse, she went for a walk. On a hallway table she spotted clipboards holding data for “Yes on 8” voters, canvassing materials culled through hours and hours of work.

“My heart pounds. I look around. The hallways are clear,” she writes. Brooks snatched those papers and shoved them in her flowered diaper bag. She rushed outside, her heels clicking on pavement. Shielded by cars and with Rosa on her hip, she forced the papers down a metal sidewalk grate. “Still, I feel the weight of the cinderblock on my heart.”

When she could guard her tongue no longer, she decided to speak publicly at a rally opposing Prop 8. She held her breath as she sent her speech to her parents.

The next morning, she opened her e-mail to see this from her father: “ ‘We want you to know we love you. You have wanted a more just and loving world since you were a little girl,’ ” she recounts in her memoir. She then describes her reaction: “Tears drop on my keyboard. My chest heaves.”

Now her father is dying of ALS, an experience that’s made their differences irrelevant.

“My parents are very devoted Mormons, and they didn’t always know what to do with me,” she says. “But there’s nothing like a terminal illness to put things in perspective.”

Dehlin created Mormon Stories in 2005, first as a podcast offering open conversations for those grasping for reasons to stay in the LDS Church, which he has. Now the group also runs conferences and online communities, as well as support groups, which are sprouting up across the globe.

Brooks didn't need Mormon Stories to get back to church. She'd worked through her struggle in her own way and own time. But realizing there were others like her out there – even if they weren't sitting next to her in church – gave her comfort. There's a kinship among those who want and need to speak freely.

The way Mormons show up for one another, she says, is part of what she loves most about her faith tradition. And while her “calling” may not be conventional or church-sanctioned, she's fulfilling a mandate to serve.

By being there for folks who are lost and looking to be found or are desperate to say things they don't feel safe uttering at church or to their families, she attends to those in need.

“Is there space for difference? People are feeling it out,” she says. “No one wants to start a new church. No one wants a schism.”

Some of her friends, especially those not in the LDS Church, have wondered why she didn't just walk away.

That might have been easier, and it's what most of her BYU friends did do. But she's shed tears and worked so hard to maintain her identity, faith and community because, like those who came before her, that's what Mormon pioneers do.

“I know who I am”

Scampering out of the garage, Mosi leads the way. The family dog - her name means "cat" in Navajo - tugs Brooks through the neighborhood on a walk that doubles as thinking time for this busy mother, professor and author.

On this afternoon, she talks about how carefully she must toe a line - one that allows her to be faithful, respectful and gently critical. She's emboldened knowing she doesn't walk alone. There are dozens and dozens like her who - thanks to blogs and social media - are also weighing in.

Brooks speaks on stages and radio programs. She also has been interviewed for documentaries, including one about Mormons in politics.

Not afraid to discuss touchy issues of race, polygamy, or same-sex marriages, Brooks says she's gotten plenty of mail from LDS Church members begging her to stop. They say she's not a spokesperson for the church, and she agrees – she isn't. She's not trying to be.

She believes this cautiousness of fellow Latter-day Saints, this fear of individually speaking up, isn't serving Mormons well. Instead of relying on church officials to read from scripts that sound likes scripts, she says, “People need to see us as human beings.”

The sacrifices of Mormons who’ve spoken out before her also help prod Brooks along. She has to trust that times are changing – that what happened to women like feminist Margaret Toscano won’t happen to her.

Toscano, 62, was excommunicated in 2000 – seven years after her husband. She recalls how the late 1970s Mormon supporters of the ERA were driven underground. She was among those who re-emerged in the late 1980s, only to face a slapdown. She says she personally knows hundreds who’ve walked away from the church over women’s issues.

She watches Brooks and others like her with hope, but not complete optimism. The ability of activists to do what they do while in the church, Toscano says, comes and goes at the whim of whoever is in charge.

Others who watch Brooks may be concerned about the company she keeps.

She knows there are those who fear her association with “apostates,” but she shrugs this off. “It’s not a concern for me. I know who I am.”

Who she is and what she believes rankles Ralph Hancock, a political science professor at BYU who’s taken her on in an LDS blog review called The Bulwark. Simply put, he says in an e-mail, “Joanna thinks or assumes that Mormonism is compatible with (or intrinsically drawn toward?) a contemporary liberal-progressive agenda – and I think not.”

She shows the “plurality of thought within Mormonism,” he says, and has taken on characterizations of Mormons in the press in a way that’s made him want to cheer.

LDS Church officials have never contacted Brooks directly, she says. And they wouldn’t comment directly on her or her work for this story.

While Brooks will speak openly about the church she loves, warts and all, she has limits. She refuses to feed the uninformed, broad-brush sensationalism so many use to paint her often misunderstood faith. That's why she graciously turned down a recent request from a History Channel producer who, among other things, hoped Brooks could show how she uses a “seer stone” – a prophetic tool used by LDS Church founder Joseph Smith.

“Are you kidding me!” Brooks says, remembering what went through her head but never came out of her mouth. “That's like asking David [her Jewish husband] if he knows how to sacrifice animals.”

Back from the walk, she rounds up the family to head out to dinner.

Over pizzas at a long table in the Blind Lady Ale House, her husband joins friends in sharing tastes of microbrews. Brooks didn't always follow the Mormon rules to abstain from coffee, tea and alcohol. But with her renewed commitment to the church, she does now.

Among her friends here are two women with whom she leads a Girl Scout troop. Giggling at the far end of the table are their daughters, members of what they like to call “the rogue Brownie troop.”

More important to them than competitive cookie peddling are missions these moms can get behind: a tour of an organic farm, an environmental cleanup activity and a food drive for AIDS patients.

Leaving the other adults to their beers, Brooks heads outside with the four girls. Soon the little ones are marching up and down the sidewalk, arms linked, shouting something that leaves passersby smiling.

Brooks has spontaneously taught them the intro to the television classic “Laverne & Shirley.”

She hooks her arms with them as they scream, “Again! Again!” She coaches their footwork and matches their youthful enthusiasm. She wonders, as an afterthought, if she’s got that “hasenpfeffer” word right.

Reaching into a pocket, Brooks pulls out her smartphone and says with a sheepish grin, “Let me check my seer stone.”

On white people, lipstick and the sacrament

It's a Sunday morning, and the family is getting ready for church. Kamper serves up pancakes before racing off to change. Ella and Rosa look over their visitor to make sure she's dressed appropriately. Modest skirt and sleeves? Check.

“Church is a good place,” Rosa says. She bounds past a globe of the world and a child-sized drum set to grab a book from the playroom shelf.

“Read this,” she orders, handing over “How Does the Holy Ghost Make Me Feel?” “This'll teach you about church.”

Rosa shows off their food storage, recommended by the LDS Church in case of disasters.

In the kitchen, Brooks holds up the New York Times Sunday Review and rails against Lee Siegel's Mitt Romney-related opinion piece, “What's Race Got to Do With It?”

“ 'Mormonism is still imagined by its adherents as a religion founded by whites, for whites, rooted in a millenarian vision of an America destined to fulfill a white God's plan for earth,' ” she reads aloud. And then, swatting the paper with the back of her hand, she asks, “Is there fact checking involved?”

She knows of the millions of LDS Church members dotting the globe in Africa, Asia and Latin America. And the Japanese-American, Filipino-American, black and Hispanic members in her own ward, or congregation. Later that night, she'll write her response. In this moment, Ella turns her attention to the diversity of American Girl dolls.

Scattered across a sofa are Rebecca, a Russian-Jewish girl from New York; Kaya, a Native American from the Nez Perce tribe; and Kirsten, who wears a bonnet.

“Mommy,” Ella screams, racing out of the room, “Did you know Kirsten's a pioneer girl?”

With her daughters loaded in the Prius, Brooks takes the wheel and tunes in Bob Marley. The girls start rifling through her purse in the backseat. They gob on her lipstick.

“Great,” she says, peering in the rearview mirror. “They're getting tarted up for church.”

Lipstick wiped off, they stroll inside. Brooks takes a seat in the back, and the girls dart up the aisle to sit with friends.

Who Brooks is outside of church is of no consequence. If anyone does follow her work, she says, “No one is up in my grill.” When she's here, she's here for spiritual sustenance – to pray, take the sacrament, and connect with and serve her community.

Bags crowding her feet hold the coffee cake she'll take to the Sunday school class she'll teach later, the Jeopardy-style game she's devised for today's lesson, and reading materials and toys to keep kids occupied.

The LDS Church's children's magazine features a story about Mormons in Tonga. Brooks spots her visitor reading it and whispers, “See how focused we are on white people?”

A little boy scoots a toy car along the floor. Stacked on a chair above him, next to hymnals, are “Curious George” books in Spanish.

Her husband sits down beside her, his arm around her shoulder. Kamper shows up because who she is, what she needs for herself and their kids, matters to him. Her acceptance of his Judaism, the fact that she's never suggested he convert, has helped him get over what the couple jokingly refer to as his “Jesus allergy.” He doesn't take the sacrament when it's offered and admits he sometimes passes on saying “amen” to church prayers.

“They don't know what the hell to make of me,” he says. But ever since he fell in love with Brooks, this trained ethnographer has been a close observer of Mormons. He feels embraced by her parents now, but that took time. Her father once challenged Kamper to read the Book of Mormon and accept the missionary lessons, visits from LDS teachers. Kamper figured it was the least he could do, but it didn't lead him into a baptismal font.

Unable to play an official role during Mormon family ceremonies, like baby namings, he accepts his job as the designated microphone holder. Someday he'll tell his nephews, “If you get busted and go to jail, call Uncle David.”

Here in church, his role is supportive husband. Kamper strokes Brooks' back when she weeps. Tears fall when her eyes close in prayer.

In a small classroom afterward, she meets with four high school students, three of whom are heading to BYU in the fall. When she meets with them, she says she sees herself at their age.

The Book of Mormon, the introduction of an additional scripture, “was a bold claim,” she tells them. “I think that's why Mormons are bold. We're OK being different.”

Trusting God’s plan

The girls plop down at the kitchen table, feasting on leftover funeral potatoes. They start humming the “Muppet Show” theme song and then, after rattling off some of their favorite Simon and Garfunkel titles, bust into the chorus of “Mrs. Robinson.”

And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson,
Jesus loves you more than you will know,
Wo, wo, wo.
God bless you, please, Mrs. Robinson,
Heaven holds a place for those who pray,
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.

Each night at dinner, the girls lead the family in prayer. Sometimes their words are inspired by their Mormonism; other times they honor the Jewish side of themselves.

They're being raised to be part of both religious traditions. They celebrate Christmas, Easter and Pioneer Day, which marks the day in 1847 when Mormon pioneers first entered now-Utah. The family also observes Hanukkah, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and Passover. Because Kamper likes to host a big Passover seder each year, Brooks decided the family would also host a Mormon seder on Pioneer Day, featuring her favorite recipes, including her “Green Goddess” Jell-o salad.

One month the girls attend Sunday school at church; the next they can be found in Hebrew school.

“It can be challenging because I have to learn one thing and then another thing,” Ella says. “But it can be fun, too, because I know I'm special.”

Brooks doesn't worry about their kids. All she can do is be responsible for her own choices and give them a rich spiritual life, she says. They'll be free to decide what path they want to travel. “God has a plan for everyone, and everything is going to work out,” she says. “I'm not afraid for them.”

Nor is Kamper, though he admits he's starting to realize some rabbis might balk if the girls want bat mitzvahs.

Ella describes how she feels in church.

“I feel comfortable because I'm in God's house. And I also feel comfortable because I know lots of people love me,” she says.

Her parents smile at each other. They want to know if she feels like she's in God's house at synagogue.

“No, but I feel like God's watching over me,” she answers.

Ella then offers to share a typical prayer she and Rosa might recite.

“We fold our arms and close our eyes,” she instructs. “Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for this food and this family. Please bless those who are sick... And if I was going to sleep,” she decides to add, “Please help me so I won't have nightmares. And if I do, send the Holy Ghost down to comfort me. I say these things in Jesus' name. Amen.”

soundoff(1,778 Responses)

Ken

Jesus said that "No man comes onto the father, except by me." You either believe that, or you believe that all ways are equally valid, and Jesus was a liar.

This woman is so confused. No wonder she weeps so much. And imagine how confused those poor kids are going to be. I have known dozens of so-called mixed-faith families. I do not know a single one of them where the kids followed Christianithy when they became adults. Almost all of them became atheists.

BTW, I love it when CNN refers to "religious traditions" instead of "religious faiths." Tellls you all you need to know.

February 6, 2012 at 2:46 pm |

Binky42

Yeah, poor kids. Doesn't she know that unless she follows 2000 year old advice that has been mangled by dozens of translators and has no place in modern society that her kids are going to burn for all eternity? My my, what is the world coming to?

February 6, 2012 at 2:49 pm |

Ken

Binky,

Why are you reading a Belief Blog? It seems that the only thing you believe in is yourself.

February 6, 2012 at 2:51 pm |

Binky42

Believing in yourself is the first step on the path to success. Believing in fairy tales...is cute for 5 year olds.

February 6, 2012 at 2:52 pm |

tekstep1

I am an athiest and not confused at all.

February 6, 2012 at 2:53 pm |

Doc Vestibule

Kids who are exposed to the tenets of more than on religion in a positive light are less likely to become members of one or the other sect because they are exposed to the realities of moral relativism!
Given the tools and education to choose between the parents' religions also gives them the tools to examine other belief systems too.
When freed of the "believe or burn" dogma, people tend to realize what a load of malarky mythology is.

February 6, 2012 at 2:58 pm |

Ken

tekstep1,

Well, you are at least confused as to how one spells atheist.

February 6, 2012 at 3:10 pm |

Ken

Doc Vestibule,

Can you please give me the link to the CNN Atheist Blog where you clearly belong so I can stop by and post there, too? TIA!

February 6, 2012 at 3:19 pm |

buctootim

Nine months of wheat and oats. At least they'll be regular.

February 6, 2012 at 2:46 pm |

mightyfudge

NO ONE knows what happens when we die, and anyone claiming such knowledge is a LIAR who probably wants your money, or in this case, hits on her blog.

February 6, 2012 at 2:46 pm |

Matthew

1. The media wants you to ignore all the faults in Mormonism.
2. Just focus on the people, and how happy they are~ That's all that matters.
3. If you have a problem with Mormonism, there are a hundred forum trolls waiting to dement your comment with nonsensical childish slams.
4. If you are a casual reader, simply enjoy the Mormon take over of America.

February 6, 2012 at 2:45 pm |

MariMar

Will someone please tell me what the need is to be "right"? Rob & Travis, I don't know if you are right – does it matter? If you are a good person, doing the right things in your life with your family, your friends, your neighbors, your employees – then I don't care what you believe. My point is there is no proof for anything except what is right in front of you. The here and now. Our families are real, the people around us are real. I don't need to believe in what you believe in to be a good person and vice versa. No one has to be "right". Will believing in an afterlife cause you to be a better person right now? No one has to be "right". Why can't everyone do the right thing in their lives – just because it is the right thing to do as human beings?

February 6, 2012 at 2:44 pm |

Hey Jude

Amen, sister.

February 6, 2012 at 2:51 pm |

Foolish Mortals

Can the world just stop believing in fairy tales for one GD SECOND PLEASE BEFORE I GO INSANE

February 6, 2012 at 2:43 pm |

GAW

Sorry but the world doesn't revolve around you. Learn to cope and laugh about it bub.

February 6, 2012 at 2:46 pm |

Ken

I am afraid that it is already too late for that.

February 6, 2012 at 2:48 pm |

Mary Jane

Can you believe people really believe in this garbage? I think the belief in gods or god is a form of schizophrenia.

February 6, 2012 at 2:42 pm |

Binky42

Not schizophrenia, just the result of boredom and the lack of any direction in life.

February 6, 2012 at 2:44 pm |

Foolish Mortals

While Binky might be in part correct, I think the main thing that makes religion nice for people is humans combination of cowardice and arrogance. It's just too scary/weird for them to think about themselves not existing.

February 6, 2012 at 2:48 pm |

Hula801

Shame on all of you posters who are slamming another religion. You were taught right from wrong and people, this is WRONG. Who are you to deem another's beliefs to be wrong or "un-Godly?" Why? Because this is what some preacher/minister/whomever told you growing up? Or because you taught yourself that you are more holy and therefore, "right" because you interpreted text to say that you are? You all sound insane, honestly.

People in this world really disappoint me daily...and that is sad.

I don't care what religion/belief you are–WHY?–because that is YOUR belief. If we were all one religion, how boring life would be, right?

If we didn't have religious fighting going on, we wouldn't have wars and allof the violence that comes from one group believing they are going to be greeted to Heaven before or in stead of someone else.

It is time to stop hating and just accept that other don't believe the same as you, but STOP HATING. It only makes your cause lose credibility and it also makes you look like you're placing yourself above God...which I am pretty sure is a sin–at least in my faith.

February 6, 2012 at 2:42 pm |

Binky42

You just accused people of being judgmental, and then judged them for it and told them they were going to hell. Errm....you do see that you're part of the problem, right?

February 6, 2012 at 2:46 pm |

ReligionIsaResourcefulTool

Amazing how fairy tails still attract the sheeple.

February 6, 2012 at 2:42 pm |

ReligionIsaResourcefulTool

*fairy tales*

February 6, 2012 at 2:43 pm |

SCAQTony

One word: Mercenary!

February 6, 2012 at 2:41 pm |

Guest

Another media person interviewing another media person and passing it off as journalism instead of commercialism. Sad and lazy.

February 6, 2012 at 2:41 pm |

Bruendog

Just remember, though gays do deserve rights, it is still not approved by God if you follow the bible. Romans 1, soddom and gomorrah, etc.

February 6, 2012 at 2:41 pm |

bff

In that story I think god killed everyone, including innocent children. Must have been part of his grand plan.

February 6, 2012 at 2:42 pm |

tekstep1

Bruendog – You know nothing of the context in which that passage was written.

February 6, 2012 at 2:51 pm |

Bruendog

then what context was it?

February 6, 2012 at 3:10 pm |

Prayer changes things

Atheism is not healthy for children and other living things

February 6, 2012 at 2:40 pm |

anchopoblano

Didn't God's Angel of Death passover and kill the first born of unbelievers?

February 6, 2012 at 2:44 pm |

Klaatu

wake up dude,
"Oh my god there is no god! "

February 6, 2012 at 2:46 pm |

Bruendog

My response to athiests is always the same...if there is no God then why do you even go to work, why do you even obey laws? Whats the point?

February 6, 2012 at 3:39 pm |

Guest

Another media person interviewing another media person and passing it off as journalism. Sad and lazy.

February 6, 2012 at 2:40 pm |

Jesus Christ

I will not allow a cult leader to be president of the united states.

February 6, 2012 at 2:39 pm |

Binky42

All religions sprang from cults. The only difference between "cults" and "religions" is typically the size. The bigger they are, the more accepted. Christianity is the biggest cult of all.

February 6, 2012 at 2:42 pm |

bmw678

I dont think that it will happen, I am sure that Obama will best him later this year.

February 6, 2012 at 2:45 pm |

Hula801

You are the worst of the worst on here. Shame on you.

February 6, 2012 at 2:47 pm |

Klaatu

Religions are cult.
Be a good human being dont talk about any god.
just wake up...and spare the human race.

February 6, 2012 at 2:50 pm |

Saboth

I'll vote for anyone with intelligence, compassion and leadership abilities. If a guy could turn around our country and get jobs, governmental reform (getting rid of lobbyists and Super Pacs), while lowering taxes and fixing healthcare, I'd vote for a Satanist.

February 6, 2012 at 3:21 pm |

TNHawkeye

The next time you have a thought, just let it go! My neighbor is LDS and the kindess person I have ever met. In fact, I don't think I have met a group of people more devoted to doing good than this religion. But way to sound educated!

February 6, 2012 at 5:21 pm |

Binky42

So, basically she's a hip, cool Mormon because, well, she isn't exactly a Mormon. Let's not mingle words here – she may have been raised Mormon, but she isn't living as a Mormon. This would be like doing a profile piece on a Jewish bacon chef.

Be cool honey, but don't try and cram yourself into Mormonism. Take the leap, and free yourself of it completely.

February 6, 2012 at 2:39 pm |

GAW

You mean she's a 'Cultural Mormon?'

February 6, 2012 at 2:44 pm |

Andyoo

that's what I though....she is raied a Mormon, but that way she behaves and belives is no longer Mormonism.
It's like someone raised Christian and then go start killing people...and is that part of Christianity?
No.
She it 'it' or whatever but she ain't Mormon. Not anymore.
Plus who cares if she is democrat or republician? Or whatever...she is a nobody.

February 6, 2012 at 2:52 pm |

SGD

Mormonism is all Rubbish-– no plates– all who "saw" recanted they never saw them, book of abraham is proven to be totally a concoction of the imagination, all of joseph's visions have been refuted, ever hear of Kolob? look it up–

however if you are mormon you are guaranteed to be a god when you die– the payoff–

if you vote for Romney - he will make Nixon look good- you have been warned.

the mormon elders want one of theirs as president badly– they will run the country–

February 6, 2012 at 2:38 pm |

Dave

Nothing you said in your post is true.

Some of the witnesses of the Golden Plates fell away from the church, but each and every one of them held true to their testimony of the Book of Mormon until literally the day they died.

February 6, 2012 at 2:47 pm |

JB

FACT CHECK: Most who witnessed the plates left the LDS church, but none ever denied their testimony of the plates. Look it up.

February 6, 2012 at 3:06 pm |

Lonny

Romans 1:22 Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools

February 6, 2012 at 2:38 pm |

bigJohn4USA

Wow an article on a dissenting Mormon. How about CNN do an article on a dissenting Muslim, one that denounces violence, denounces jihad, that embraces gay life style, one that accepts religious tolerance, one that denounces honor killings.

Two reasons CNN would never do an article like that. (1) there aren't any. (2) They were already killed for speaking out.

February 6, 2012 at 2:37 pm |

bmw678

Wait a minute, I am still alive, I denounced terrorism and honor killings (these are cultural issues not religious)

February 6, 2012 at 2:48 pm |

Imhere

Guess again buddy! Im gay, muslim and i always speak out where i can.😛 We do exist!!

February 6, 2012 at 2:51 pm |

Mork

Wow, religious people of different religions doing exactly what a good relgion says they should do and not judge or codemn others based on their personal beliefs. Now if only all the rest of the religious power trippers could take this stance 'live and let live' or 'do unto others as you would unto yourself' then this entire planet would be a better place to live.

February 6, 2012 at 2:37 pm |

Hula801

Agree,Mork...but people still think that others care about their beliefs. I don't. It's personal and that is where it should stay.

The CNN Belief Blog covers the faith angles of the day's biggest stories, from breaking news to politics to entertainment, fostering a global conversation about the role of religion and belief in readers' lives. It's edited by CNN's Daniel Burke with contributions from Eric Marrapodi and CNN's worldwide news gathering team.